- 11:37 pm, December 24, 1996 -
"Can you feel this?" The voice was cheerful, despite being somewhat muffled.
"Yes." Natalie looked up at the ceiling and clenched her hands in the restraints, feeling the sharp bite of the needle embedded in her right hand. She was frightened beyond belief, and the pain helped her focus.
"This?" The anesthesiologist's smile was evident in his warm voice.
"What--?" She glanced back over at him expecting a trick, but he just patted her shoulder and nodded.
"Ready?" It was another muffled voice and Nat turned her head, looking up into the smiling eyes of her doctor, who squeezed her hand reassuringly.
With a nod, she went to work, chatting at Natalie and with the other doctors and nurses, working quickly, efficiently.
Again Natalie stared at the ceiling. There was nothing she could do but wait.
- 12:03 am, December 25, 1996 -
Natalie's heartbeat quickened when she heard the first cry, and her nurse patted her forearm, acknowledging Natalie's start.
"Just a moment -- let's clean out your nose, fussy one. Now, Natalie you'll feel a little tugging, then a sensation like the first big drop on a roller coaster and we'll see --"
Natalie gasped as the child was pulled from her.
"A boy!" Dr. Evalsu announced happily, lifting the infant up. "And a big boy at that! I'm guessing ten pounds, give or take a few ounces --"
But Natalie vaguely heard her doctor, as she only had eyes for her son.
He had stopped crying and now looked straight at her with wonderment in his dark blue eyes. Then he closed them and drew a great lungful of air, bawling as the doctor handed him to the waiting pediatrician, who placed him under a sun lamp.
Of course, that only made him howl more.
Natalie tried to sit up, "Don't -- the light!"
"Shh!" The nurse's hand was on her shoulder, comforting. "It's okay. He's fine. The light won't hurt him. You can see him in a minute."
"I want to see him now!"
Nat hadn't meant her voice to sound so sharp, and her doctor looked up from her work. Natalie was stunned for a moment at the ferocity of her maternal emotions, then she smiled, 'almost' apologetically, "Please." She smiled again, this time at the pediatrician.
He shrugged at Dr. Evalsu. "Only for a minute," he warned.
"Place him on her chest." She looked at Nat sternly. "Let me finish you up and then you can see him all you want."
Nat only half listened to the doctor, listening instead to her son's cry of discomfort, which died down as he was placed, wrapped and bundled, on her chest.
Her hands were still strapped down --'damn needles!' -- and she ignored the pediatrician's calling off of apgar scores and birth data; instead Natalie just stared at the miracle before her.
He looked just like any other newborn, wrinkly and kinda purplish-red, with white residue and blood smeared over him, but to Natalie he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
He wriggled slightly and wrinkled his nose, then his eyes opened again. He had the dark blue eyes of a newborn, but she knew they'd lighten in time. Lighten to the most brilliant blue--
"Hey!" Nat protested as the pediatrician carefully lifted her son; of course, it didn't make the little one happy either.
He let everyone know, too.
The doctor cradled the infant to his chest a moment. "Natalie --"
Nat held her breath. Had he seen something wrong?
The doctor's light grey eyes were clear and untroubled as he lay the screaming infant in the heated bassinet.
"Congratulations! Everything looks fine. I'll be in to talk to you more later this morning. Come on, big guy, let's go get you cleaned up."
Natalie listened to the voice of her son trailing down the hall, then closed her eyes, weary from the long labor and then the rush decision to take him by c-section. She lay back, tolerating the separation from her son because she had no real choice in the matter. So she let them sew her up, inject her with painkillers, and wheel her into recovery, covering her with warm blankets. All she had to do was think. Think about the child a few floors up.
She placed one of her now free hands on her decidedly flattened stomach. Odd how she felt so empty. Then maybe not so odd; after all, she had carried him for almost nine months. Even though she was only truly aware of him for the past seven and a half. Seven and a half months of seesawing between being overjoyed and scared almost witless. Over the course of her pregnancy, she had sometimes missed Nick so badly that it physically hurt.
Afraid and alone, wondering if she was going to wake up and find this all a bizarre dream. But her stomach had kept growing.
And she really hadn't thought of the others, so wrapped up in herself that she missed the sympathetic looks from her co-workers for a long time.
She decided to leave after she overheard a couple of detectives talking, trashing Nick for being selfish and irresponsible. They all thought that he had walked out on her. That he couldn't handle being a father and just left. Her friend Dana had connections and helped her get a teaching post in Arlington. Her job wouldn't start until after the birth so she gave her notice and moved to the States. Natalie had a little money saved, and that, added to her retirement, allowed her to find a nice little house in the suburbs.
She spent her time decorating her new home, waiting for the baby, and missing Nick. Wanting to share this miracle of a child with him. This impossible, scary, wonderful thing they had done. Mourning Nick. Knowing she had no hope of ever finding him. Where would she look?
All traces of vampire life in Toronto, that she knew of, had vanished overnight.
The Raven was now just an empty building in a rougher part of town. Over her years with him, he had mentioned a name here or there.
Of others.
And she remembered some of them. But she was too afraid to even try to seek out another vampire. She didn't have the vampire memory, but she did remember explicitly what he had told her of the ones he called the Enforcers. And the growing child within her took precedence over her time.
After thinking long and hard about it, Natalie had told her doctor she didn't want to know the sex of the child growing within her, although she had made certain all other available prenatal tests were done.
Even though her doctor thought she was worrying unnecessarily, Nat felt she had to; after all, there was no getting past the fact that the father, Nicholas de Brabant: (a.k.a. Nicholas Knight: a.k.a. Nicholas Chevalier: a.k.a. no telling how many other names over the centuries), was a vampire.
Nat smiled slightly and tried to move. Being numb from the chest down was a strange experience. But she could already feel the tingle of nerves awakening. She nodded sleepily at the nurse, who was saying some sort of nonsense Natalie couldn't quite make out.
She didn't really want to talk to the woman. What she really wanted to do was talk to Nick. To see Nick's face as he held his son. She still missed him terribly. Nat turned her face away from the nurse. Dammit, she wasn't going to cry.
Tears had come so easily to her over the past nine months. Tears of pain when she realized he was leaving. When he had told her that he loved her, then he kissed her like he was memorizing the taste of her, then he was gone. Tears of joy at the prospect of his child. She felt the nurse pat her on the shoulder and leave her with her thoughts. Nat could still remember the exact instant she found out she was pregnant --
Natalie stared at the tiny piece of plastic in her hand. She was actually quite amazed at how steady her hand was, how blue the mark on the chemically treated paper was.
"This is impossible!" She blinked at the tears that came so easily these past few weeks -- "Oh God!"-- Natalie tried desperately to sort out her emotions, to bring some coherence to her thoughts.
After astonishment wore off, the first emotion she was aware of was joy --
"A baby!"-- A part of him, a part of her joined in the perfection of a child.
"This can't be right," her clinical voice scolded her. "The test is flawed. Do it again. Nick is a vampire, for cryin' out loud."
Besides, they had only had sex once.
The night after he had been shot.
Nat held the piece of plastic tightly in her hand. The test wasn't flawed. This was the third one. And just like the others, the third one stated emphatically, in a rather pretty blue this time, that Dr. Natalie Lambert was pregnant.
She had known better.
Known better than to let her emotions take over. They both needed to take it slowly; she wanted to see if the vampire would emerge and... she had been scared at LaCroix' showing up.
But, instead of threatening her, he flattered her, just like he did that Valentine's Day. That night in the Azure that both vampires thought she 'didn't' remember.
LaCroix had scared her, but she stood her ground. Eventually he had left, but Nick had questions. Questions she tried to put off --
She had moved in front of the fireplace, trying to think of all the implications of Nick's amnesia.
Like Ellen, Nick had no idea he was a vampire and didn't show any traits. This could be the cure they were looking for. This, maybe the only cure they would be allowed.
"We have to take this slowly." Nat grabbed his arm, wanting him to believe in her.
Trust her.
"We? What do you mean by we? Do ..." Nick smiled slightly, seeming embarrassed by his memory loss. "Do we have a relationship?"
His eyes were clear and blue, and Nat unknowingly moved closer. The smile he gave sent shivers down her spine and awakened emotions better left to later. Nat knew she should back away, but his hand came up to caress her cheek, and her resolve had melted with the first touch of his lips.
They had still been cool against hers, but not unwelcomingly so, and his eyes were bright and brilliant, brilliant blue as they gazed into her own.
"Does it matter?"
He bent down and brushed his nose against hers, placing feather light kisses on her lips.
"No," she said before opening her mouth to his, "not now."
It still made her blush to think of the wanton way she had responded to Nick. Not that he was anything but an eager lover. Fierce and strong, yet cherishing, worshipping, and she was more than aware that he still had the strength of a vampire.
She could feel the power that radiated from his touch. And he was so gentle, so ... other, and his skin was still cold to her touch.
Yet it had felt so right.
They had none of the shy stops first time lovers have. It was like they had made love a million times before. He instinctively knew the exact place on the back of her ear that made her skin vibrate with tingles of pleasure. As she knew kissing along his inner thigh would bring a delicious moan.
He had whispered words of love against her skin, his voice husky and deep. It was so right to look up into his eyes to see the gold glimmering in the depths of not red nor green, but his blue eyes. She wasn't afraid, but aroused by the little growls of pleasure that issued from deep within his throat. And the feel of his teeth against her skin was erotic, pushing her over the edge of her climax even though there was no sign of fangs, just mortal love play.
She had thrust back up against him, tumbling into her release, and remembered screaming his name just as she lost consciousness.
She didn't know what woke her.
She tried to move and found herself imprisoned by Nick's arms. He was snuggled against her back, his arms wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her hair. He murmured something faintly in French and hugged her tighter.
It was then she realized that he was naked, she was naked, and every muscle in her body ached deliciously. She quickly put her hand to her neck feeling for... nothing.
They had made love.
Nick had made love to her without the vampire emerging.
She slipped carefully from his embrace.
He had grunted once in protest as she moved away, then buried his face in her pillow. She watched as he took a deep breath and smiled in his sleep as he whispered her name.
She had gone downstairs to get her robe and a drink of water, her throat was slightly raw from --
Natalie remembered she had blushed, even though there was no one to see as she thought, 'Screaming, I cannot believe I actually screamed myself hoarse and passed out.'
She had wrapped herself in her pink terry cloth robe and sat on the couch, sipping from the water bottle.
The scientist had wanted to take notes. The woman had wanted to crawl back into bed upstairs.
Neither had won because before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
It was the elevator that woke her.
She sat upright on the leather couch, the rays of the morning sun streaming over her.
"Nick!" she called as she frantically searched for the remote to lower the shades. She rushed to the elevator just as he staggered through the open door.
He fell to his knees; his skin was horribly burned and still smoking.
"What is wrong with me?" he had yelled, and as she looked into his pain-filled eyes, her heart broke.
Last night was a stolen moment.
A dream -- 'Oh! They had been so close!'
"There's no easy way to--"
He had grabbed her then, unaware he was hurting her. And she told him.
Told him what she could of himself, but she only knew what he had told her over the almost six years that they'd been together. There was no way she could replace almost eight centuries of memories.
He began spending more time with LaCroix.
Not that he neglected her; they still watched videos, went out occasionally, but he had withdrawn emotionally from her. And she would catch him sometimes, looking at her with an expression so full of pain, so full of longing, and she would reach out to him, but he would smile tightly at her and leave.
It wasn't long after the incident where, possessed by a demon, he almost killed her that he had left.
************
Alone in the recovery room, Nat let the tears course down her face.
************
- 6:45 am, December 25, 1996 -
"Dr. Lambert?"
Nat glanced up from the sleeping infant. "Yes?"
The young woman's smile was almost as large as the bouquet of flowers she carried in her arms.
"Merry Christmas! Hi! I'm Donna. We need to fill out some paperwork for your son, and these were at the nurse's station for you -- I hope you don't mind, I thought I'd bring them."
The flower assortment was huge.
All white -- white roses, white lilies, white tulips.
White flowers Natalie couldn't even name.
All white, except one.
In the center of the arrangement, amid all the pale blooms, was one rose, a bud just beginning to open.
Perfect and blood red.
"Is there a card?" Nat asked, watching the hospital aide attempt to balance the bouquet on the tiny table.
"Hmmm--let's see." She moved a few of the blooms aside. "No, I don't see one."
Donna pulled a chair next to Nat's bed. "Now," the young woman ruffled through some papers, "have you decided on a name?"
Nat smiled down at the sleeping infant in her arms.
"Yes."
Oh, how could she not. She already saw him in the child's face.
At first Natalie had rejected the name, too heartrendingly melodramatic.
But her resolve had melted the first moment she saw him.
"Nicholas -- his name is Nicholas."
`fin
